


Clockwork

by MagicRobot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Chromedome Angst, Illnesses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 18:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicRobot/pseuds/MagicRobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rewind survives his encounter with Overlord, but is inflicted with a deadly disease. Chromedome laments as he watches him die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clockwork

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Moose on tumblr, who gave me the prompt.

A pool of energon was beginning to form beneath Chromedome where he sat. It was a steady dribble of splatters that fell to the ground, creating a soft sound as it feel. The amount of energon was concerning to the medics in the room, but Chromedome refused any treatments they had tried to offer.

Chromedome simply stared ahead, keeping vigil over the form in front of him. Twinges of pain shot through his neural net as his missing arm throbbed. He ignored it, too engrossed in his thoughts as he watched the numbers on the death clock slowly tick down to zero. He wanted to scream in indignation at the unfairness of it all, but refrained from doing so. Instead he sat and waited for the inevitable.

It was a disease of the spark, First Aid had told him. Something that was triggered from being in close proximity to the slow cell. Due to the unusual nature of the chamber, Rewind’s disease was progressing much faster than it should be. 

When asked about a cure, First Aid had simply shook his head, offering his condolences before scurrying off to aid Ratchet in stabilizing Ultra Magnus. 

A part of Chromedome was angry at the injustice of it all. This wasn’t supposed to happen; not like this. He rubbed at his visor in frustration, his shoulders slumping in defeat. There was nothing he nor anyone else could do right now, but Chromedome was determined to make the best of it.

On the berth, Rewind rested, deep in recharge. By now, his systems were starting to shut down one by one, and his body was compensating with excess recharge. Chromedome watched as the timer trickled down to the three hour mark.

The spark monitor on the side was a steady hum in the room, and Chromedome couldn’t help but feel comforted by it. Hearing it was confirmation that Rewind was still alive, as opposed to the clock, which was a heavy reminder of how long he had left. 

A heavy sigh escaped from Chromedome, before he could help it. He slouched in his seat; utterly defeated. Everything just seemed so wrong - this wasn’t supposed to be how things ended. Rewind wasn’t supposed to die slowly and painfully, leaving him all alone. He sobbed brokenly at the thought. 

Chromedome didn’t know what to do with himself. Rewind was his lifeline,  the one person to keep him sane in the whole universe. He loved Rewind with all of his spark, trusted him unconditionally. To have that sort of support so cruelly ripped away from him was enough to made his helm spin.

Vents hitching, he placed his helm in his remaining servo, the tips of his digits pressing onto his visor. He sobbed openly for a few moments, letting his grief get the best of him. There was nothing to be done, and Chromedome was overwhelmed with a sense of helplessness.

He cried for a while until he could no longer spare the energy to do so. His vents stuttered unevenly, his visor glowing with excess coolant. Trembling slightly, he reached over, grasping Rewind’s servo like a lifeline. The death clock above him read two hours and twenty minutes, and Chromedome shuddered at the reminder.

The servo was warm in his palm, and he nuzzled it against his facemask. He stared sadly at the berth, once again becoming lost in his thoughts. Rewind had always been small, but, somehow, seeing him in this way made him look positively tiny. Chromedome’s intakes stuttered as he struggled not to break down again. He clutched the servo tightly, watching Rewind’s frame intently.

Above him, the death clock ticked down to two hours.

Sometime during Chromedome’s melancholy, Rewind’s frame began to stir slightly. The movements was barely noticeable, sluggish and weak. Chromedome brought Rewind’s servo down to clutch in his lap, watching as the visor booted up, and the other mech gazed up at him.

His visor glowed dimly, barely a pale blue in the low lighting of the medbay. Chromedome met it with his own yellow one and a brief moment of heavy silence settled between them. Neither knew what to say - there was simultaneously too much and not enough left between them.

Finally, Rewind cleared his intakes noisily, his fans by now barely functioning. “Hey, Domey,” he managed to croak.

Chromedome squeezed on Rewind’s servo comfortingly before replying with his own soft greeting. “Hello.”

Rewind squeezed back weakly, watching Chromedome. He was always worrying about Chromedome, something that Chromedome usually took for granted. He took a few more shaky intakes before saying, “I’m sorry things have to end like this.”

Chromedome rubbed the back of Rewind’s servo, massaging the joints where the digits met the palm. No one was more sorry than he was. “It’s not your fault. No one should have to suffer like this.” He let out a puff of air that he hadn’t realized he was holding. Pushing the chair closer to the berth, Chromedome leaned his elbow against its surface, still clutching Rewind’s servo.

Rewind laughed weakly. “It just seems so wrong.”

Instead of replying right away, Chromedome nuzzled the conjoined servos with his helm. Eventually, he removed himself from his seat, moving himself to lay next to Rewind on the berth. In response, Rewind cuddled up to his chest, his helm nestling underneath Chromedome’s chin.

For a moment, Chromedome dimmed his optics and imagined that they were back in their hab suite, the both of them completely safe. There was no Overlord, no half destroyed ship, and certainly no fatal disease. Just the two of them relaxing in their berth like any normal cycle.

Rewind coughed harshly, and reality came crashing down upon him. Suddenly, the dreaded hum of the spark monitor and the silent ticking of the death clock became all too real, and Chromedome could do anything but hold Rewind closer.

“I keep thinking this is some awful nightmare. That I’ll wake up and everything will be okay,” confessed Chromedome, his digits idly tracing along Rewind’s spinal strut. Rewind shivered, pulling closer, seemingly to hide within Chromedome’s plating.

“Me too.”

They clutched at each other for a while, neither daring to move. An occasional cough would escape Rewind, and Chromedome would sooth him when his intakes heaved afterwards.

The death clock above was at the half hour mark when Rewind decided to speak once again. He wiggled slightly out of Chromedome’s hold, meeting Chromedome’s visor. 

He looked much more tired and ragged than before and Chromedome knew it was almost the end. 

“Chromedome,” he began, his voice much weaker and softer than before. Chromedome rubbed at his back plating encouragingly. “I love you so much. I know things have never been perfect between us, but I have never once regretted this.” He paused, his intakes hitching as his body began to deteriorate. “You are the most stubborn, frustrating mech I have ever met, but wonderful.” Rewind’s optic’s fizzled out for a moment, and he stopped as vertigo overcame him. Chromedome looked on in concern, cradling Rewind’s helm in his servo.

“I love you too, Rewind,” whispered Chromedome, caressing his helm. “You mean everything to me.” Despite the fact that this simple statement held such great weight, it didn’t seem like enough. Rewind had saved him, had sacrificed so much to make him happy, and Chromedome was forever grateful. 

“Promise me something, please,” begged  Rewind, his venting becoming more and more uneven as time passed. “Promise me to never inject again?” It was an old promise, something that had been made and broken many times before. Now, however, it seemed to hold much more weight and Chromedome found himself nodding, completely honest and committed.

Rewind took a slow vent, snuggling up against Chromedome once more. “Thank you.”

The death clock above counted down the final five minutes, but Chromedome paid it no mind, clutching Rewind’s body until the very end. When the clock beeped the end, he just clutched tighter.


End file.
